Freckles

Rosalynn Thomas wasn't exactly known for making friends. She wasn't really known for anything for that matter. All anyone knew of her was their parents telling them not to play with her when she was a little girl, they never had a good feeling about her. She was beautiful, though. Her curly, fiery hair fell all the way down to her mid back and her bangs covered the troubled skin on her forehead. She had freckles that were so sporadic, it was as if an artist had taken their paint brush and wildly splattered little spots every which way to create an intricate web of constellations that you could spend hours staring at, trying to figure out.

As she grew up though, that mentality stayed with the people of the town. Her mother worried it would cause negative long term effects, being isolated for so long. No matter how hard she tried to make friends, to please people, it never worked. She wanted so desperately to fit in, to be liked, to have one, just one, friend to sit and talk with her. Someone who would tell her stories and make her laugh. She didn't think that was too much to ask.

As the lonely years dragged on, she stopped speaking in public. Her mother was lucky to get a few somber words out of her.

"Mom," she asked one day in sixth grade, looking at her with tears in her eyes "what's wrong with me? Why does no one want anything to do with me?" one released and rolled down her cheek.

"Oh, nothing sweetheart." her mother rushed to her side pulled her into a tight embrace.

"I've never done anything to hurt any of those kids, to make them not like me. I don't understand." She sobbed into her mother's shirt.

"I don't understand either, Rosa. I wish I could make the hurt go away." She brushed her daughter's hair out of her face and held her for what seemed like the rest of the night.

By the time she reached high school not much had changed, by her sophomore year Rosalynn wouldn't even take her eyes off the ground. The only thing that changed was that there was a new law introduced to the town, a curfew was now being enforced due to major safety concerns linked to unexplained murders in the past couple of years. The bodies were all found in different ways, each as gruesome, if not more than the next. Some were impaled through the chest and stuck onto large, sharpened branches of an old tree. Some were tangled in barbed wire, mauled beyond recognition. Most though, were just left hanging off high points on the oldest oak trees, with long frayed ropes around their raw, crooked necks.

"Rosa, sweetie," rang her mothers soft voice through the dimly lit hallway "Rosa would you like to come down for dinner?" she asked opening the door to her room without knocking.

Rosalynn lay still in her bed, a few damp curls hanging off the frame. She was asleep.

Her mother looked to the floor and sighed in a sad sort of disappointment. It had been weeks since the last time they had eaten together, and they only talked occasionally. She was getting quite lonely. She walked over to her bed and kissed her damp head, it smelled of her coconut shampoo.

"Sweet dreams darling, maybe tomorrow night you'll feel up to spending some time together. I love you." She gave her head one last gentle, affectionate pat and walked out of the room shutting the door without a sound.

For only fifteen, Rosalynn was an extremely clever girl, even if unfortunately, it was mainly used for sneaking out of the house and not being caught past curfew by police.

As Rosalynn weaved her way through a tightly knit maze of thick tree roots and branches, she twirled her ringlets around her thin fingers. It's something she did as a little girl when she was concentrating, almost a sign known as "Do not disturb me".

Here, in this little area of quiet forest she was happy. She sang, she danced and ate wild raspberries off the bush. Occasionally she would swim in the river, leaving her clothes neatly folded on a large rock outside the cool, calm water.

She hummed softly, looking around "Tonight seems like a beautiful night for a swim, don't you think?" she asked a passing skunk. It looked in her general direction but payed little attention and was off with a swish of his bushy tail.

She jumped slightly and hid by instinct at the sound of a cracking branch. From beside a large log on the ground, she peered cautiously over the damp, rotting wood.

Two men who appeared to be in their late twenties or early thirties emerged from the thick brush. She ducked as they shone their flashlights in her direction.

"I heard she comes out here at night, waiting for new victims." The first man said quietly.

"It's a myth, Jace." the second man said, shaking his head. "One girl couldn't kill all those people and not get caught. It's got to be the work of some sort of cult." He squinted into the darkness where his flashlight couldn't reach.

Rosalynn chuckled softly at his comment, at the little faith he had in her abilities.

She managed to slip away from the two men undetected to get to her favorite spot in the forest, a large area with the river she likes to swim in. Hard to run in, easy trees to climb and hide in.

Hiding in the large hanging branches of the weeping willow, she waited. They would be around soon, people were rarely able to resist the beauty of the large tress and wild flowers topped off with the sparkling water, even in the dark.

Half an hour later they appeared -Jace and the second man- through the hanging branches of the willows, shining their lights around. Rosalynn pressed herself against the thick trunk of the tree to make herself less visible.

"I don't like this Andrew." Jace's voice was quiet and uncertain. "I really don't, I think we should go back."

"There haven't been killings in weeks, we're going to be fine. I just want to look around." Andrew sounded distant.

While they were talking Rosalynn had climbed down from where she was perched and decided now was the time to make her move, it was getting early. It was now or never.

They didn't see it coming, the attack. Many wonder how one fifteen-year-old girl could get the best of two full grown men like this, and that, we cannot answer. They joined the rest at the top of the oak tree that night.

After Rosalynn had finished her task, the sun was close to rising. It was time to go home. She cleaned her hands off in the river.

The walk home was calm and only two hours. When she did arrive, she changed out of her bloody clothes and went to put them into the washing machine, with a little stain remover of course.

"Good morning Rosa," her mother said sweetly walking past her through the narrow hallway. "did you sleep well?'

"Yes mom, I did. Thanks for asking."

Her mother didn't notice the small splatters of blood on her skin, she never did for that matter. They always just looked like the patches of freckles she's had her entire life.